The sun hung high, it was noon. Liam's roommate, knowing his cold hadn't fully abated, had secured him another day of sick leave. "Why does this cold feel like it's getting worse? Am I just out of shape?" Liam mumbled to himself.
Beside him sat a bowl of rich, savory broth, brought by his considerate roommate. "A true saint!" Liam thought, mentally awarding his roommate a "good deed" badge. After sleeping for what felt like ages, he was famished. He devoured the broth in a few gulps, then opened his laptop.
His fingers instinctively opened his chat application, and he immediately noticed the red dot next to 'Conclave of Arcane Lore,' indicating new messages. Curiosity piqued, Liam opened the chat window, eager to see what new antics the seasoned fantasy role-players of the group had engaged in overnight.
The chat history from the early morning hours unfolded before him: River North Wanderer's inquiries about the 'newcomer,' Blade of the Madman's audacious flirting, the intriguing Elder from the Spirit Isles, and Lord Obsidian's self-proclaimed divination, which supposedly revealed a fated connection with Liam. Reading through the exchanges, the personalities of the group members began to coalesce vividly in Liam's mind.
"So, they added the wrong person after all. I knew I didn't know this Lord Obsidian."
From the chat logs, it seemed this group wasn't one just anyone could join; invitations and recommendations appeared to be a prerequisite. And these "senior fantasy enthusiasts" in the group seemed quite old, some even having adult daughters. If their daughters were grown, some of these members could easily be in their forties or fifties. To still be indulging in such elaborate role-playing at that age… their children must have their patience tested.
Liam scrolled through the chat, maintaining his silent observer status, determined not to speak. Watching the group's eccentricities was amusing from a distance, but to join in? He wasn't one for such theatrical displays. His plan was simply to observe the chat logs, treating them as a daily dose of absurdity. He'd leave the Conclave of Arcane Lore whenever it ceased to be entertaining, or if the novelty wore off. That's what he truly believed.
Unbeknownst to him, ten days passed in a blur…
June 1st, Saturday, Children's Day.
Liam's roommates were a mix of boarders and day students, staying in the dorms Monday through Friday and returning home on weekends. Thus, the dorm felt eerily quiet on Saturdays, with only Liam left.
His cold had long since recovered, though a lingering sniffle and a persistent, dry cough remained. This "cold cough" was notoriously stubborn, capable of persisting for months if not properly managed. On this particular Saturday, Liam awoke at eight, a luxury, then headed to the cafeteria for a light breakfast. With nothing pressing to do, he returned to his dorm.
Opening his laptop, he habitually checked the Conclave of Arcane Lore's chat history—it had become his preferred method of passing the time. He'd been a member of the group for over ten days now. During his silent observation, he'd noticed most members discussing their "expeditions" into mystical realms, recounting their "bounties." Others spoke of encountering "malevolent spirits" or "demonic beasts," either subduing or slaying them. It all sounded incredibly real. Liam thought that if he copied these conversations, embellished them a little, he could publish them online as fantasy stories and earn a decent sum.
Over these ten days, Liam had come to recognize several key figures in the group. There was Lord Obsidian, the often-absent founder; Elder Seraph and Elder Solstice, two administrators who hadn't appeared since he joined. Then there were the frequently online 'River North Wanderer,' the group's gossip, the ever-audacious 'Blade of the Madman,' 'Seven of the Serpent Clan,' who was always eager for a fight, and the laconic 'Apothecary.' There was also 'Silent Monk' Theron, a constant lurker who communicated solely through emoticons and punctuation, rumored to be practicing a vow of silence. Finally, there was 'Fae Willow of the Spirit Isles,' whose messages, surprisingly, seemed the most normal amidst the group's eccentricities. Her contact number differed from Liam's by only one digit, a fortunate coincidence that allowed him entry into this unusual Conclave. These tidbits of information Liam had gleaned from the enthusiastic 'River North Wanderer,' who had introduced other members to 'Fae Willow of the Spirit Isles.'
...
Today, upon opening the Conclave, the first message he saw was from Apothecary.
Uncharacteristically, the man of few words had spoken at length: "Refined a basic elixir recipe." This seven-word sentence, including punctuation, was the longest message Liam had seen from Apothecary since joining the group. Intrigued, he continued to read.
Apothecary's message was posted in the early hours:
"Simplified Physique-Refining Elixir Recipe: Three ounces of Ginseng, four and a third ounces of Goji Berries; one ounce of Mystical Morning Dew Herb; three ounces of Solar Stone, one and a third ounces of Maiden's Bloom... one ounce of Fresh Sovereign Branch, four ounces of Sliced Solar Blaze Bamboo..."
A lengthy list of forty-five ingredients. Some, like ginseng and goji berries, were familiar. Others, like solar stone, were less common. And then there were those he'd never heard of at all: Mystical Morning Dew Herb, Fresh Sovereign Branch, Solar Blaze Bamboo.
"Add ingredients sequentially to the cauldron according to the recipe, simmer for approximately five minutes; add the next ingredient, continue simmering for approximately five minutes. Mind the heat! Repeat this cycle until the elixir becomes a paste. The finished Physique-Refining Elixir should be black, translucent, and pungent."
The instructions were clear and easy to understand! Liam recognized few of the forty-odd ingredients, so he curiously searched them online. Thirty of the ingredients were common medicinal herbs, mostly for invigorating qi and blood. The other fifteen, like Mystical Morning Dew Herb, Sovereign Branch, and Solar Blaze Bamboo, were utterly unknown. Could these be mere fabrications concocted by 'Apothecary' and the other group members?
"These guys are really deep into their delusion, even concocting medical recipes. Surely no one would actually follow this recipe and consume the concoction?" Liam thought to himself. He felt a pang of concern. While food could be consumed freely, medicine was a different matter! Taking unknown concoctions could be deadly, couldn't it? Should he warn these eccentric group members? After all, he'd been observing them for over ten days. If someone in the group died from taking a concoction, he felt he couldn't simply stand by.
He scrolled further down the chat history. Sure enough, someone had already attempted to brew the elixir! It was none other than 'Fae Willow of the Spirit Isles,' the most seemingly normal person in the group. Her message was timestamped around 2:00 AM.
Fae Willow of the Spirit Isles: "Compared to the old Physique-Refining Elixir, this version requires far fewer rare ingredients, and the brewing process is greatly simplified. Elder Apothecary, to what degree should the heat be controlled? I just attempted a batch, and it failed midway. Also, how does the efficacy compare to the previous version?"
Apothecary: "Efficacy 2:1."
The efficacy was only half of the old version, understandable given the reduction of precious ingredients. But to produce a Physique-Refining Elixir using such common ingredients was, by all accounts, a considerable gain.
Apothecary: "The exact heat and simmering time require personal experimentation; it cannot be precisely explained." Apothecary, in a rare moment, sent another lengthy message. Only when discussing elixirs did he force himself to type out more words: "Furthermore, if your 'Flame Control Art' is lacking, I recommend using a flame-controlling artifact."
Fae Willow of the Spirit Isles: "Thank you, Elder. I shall try again." Fae Willow sent a smiling emoticon and went offline.
Fae Willow's last message was at 2:13 AM. If she immediately began brewing elixirs, she must have already completed several batches by now. Could this be deadly? These "middle school syndrome" enthusiasts were endearing enough, but if they consumed dangerous concoctions, wouldn't they become even more endearingly misguided? Perhaps they could have been saved before, but now, after taking this 'medicine,' were they beyond salvation?!
Finally, his conscience got the better of him. He couldn't resist typing into the chat box: "Do not consume random concoctions!"
Just as he was about to press Enter, sending his first message to the group… the chat window vibrated.
A large smiling emoticon appeared in the group chat. It was from Elder Seraph, an administrator who hadn't been active since Liam joined: "The recipe is excellent. I just attempted seven batches simultaneously, and all were successfully brewed with remarkable ease. The efficacy is even better than anticipated, roughly half that of the old Physique-Refining Elixir, but the cost is tenfold lower. Though it is only a low-tier Physique-Refining Elixir, given the diminishing spiritual essence of our era and the increasing scarcity of precious ingredients, this is truly a treasure. Apothecary, continue your efforts. If you can refine elixirs of the Third Tier or higher, your merit will be immeasurable."
Elder Seraph: "In addition: Most importantly, the refining process is greatly simplified, making it accessible even to aspiring apprentices."
Elder Seraph was a renowned Elder in the group, his power surpassing even Lord Obsidian's. His profound mastery of alchemy also made him an authority in the field within the group. His praise naturally emboldened Apothecary, a junior.
Apothecary: "Thank you, Elder, I shall endeavor!" Apothecary, in a rare display of verbosity, typed more than six words, and with surprising speed.
Liam's mouth began to twitch. Someone had already brewed and consumed that 'Physique-Refining Elixir'?